


We Are All of Us Stars

by Princex_N



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Autistic Wander, Bullying, Feel-good, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Misgendering, Slow Burn, Sylvia is ur friendly local black trans lesbian, Trans Female Character, Transphobia, good vibes, wander is ur local overenthusiastic autist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 02:38:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10295630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princex_N/pseuds/Princex_N
Summary: While having a rough time with some of her professors, Sylvia finds reassurance in an unusual place; a whiteboard stuck to one of the apartments in her hallway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Quick warning for one use of the R-slur

Standing in the elevator going up to her apartment, Sylvia feels nothing but sick and pissed off. 

She's beginning to wonder if all of this college stuff is really going to be worth the trouble. 

It had seemed good in theory. Get a degree and move on to working a good job and having a stable life, and there'd be no more struggling to juggle several shitty part time jobs to try and keep herself afloat. 

That was before she'd come to classes and started getting deadnamed and misgendered all to hell. 

She'd done things the polite way; emailed her professors before classes started and gone and introduced herself after every class, and most of them had been cool with it. Most of them. But two of them had looked at her, looked at her deadname, then at  _her_ name, and had refused. 

She's disgusted and tired, and she's pretty sure that this violates some kind of discrimination thing, but she doesn't know if it'll be worth all the trouble she'd have to go through to get something done about it. If she could just change her legal name, she wouldn't have to put up with all of this, but it's not like she's made of money. She can't afford that shit right now. 

And in her opinion, she shouldn't  _have_ to in order to be respected. 

To put it simply; Sylvia is tired and she's angry as hell. It's only the second week of classes, and she's already considering dropping most of hers. 

The doors open to her floor and she steps out of the elevator, about to turn down her hallway when something catches her eye. 

Hanging on someone's apartment door is a whiteboard. The words, 'You're doing great!!! Hang in there, trooper!" are written in thick orange marker. Beneath the words is a scribbly approximation of what might be a rabbit. 

Sylvia has never really been one for general statements of positivity, but something about the board hits home. 

 _'Yeah,'_ she thinks to herself, stopping to look at the board.  _'I'm going to be able to do this.'_

She  _has_ to be able to do this, this is the stepping stone she needs in order to get where she wants to be in life, and if she's going to have to deal with a few assholes along the way, well, she's been doing that since she was a kid. 

She's going to do this. She'll  _make_ him respect her. 

* * *

Overall, it's easier said than done. 

Sylvia meets with her professors again, tries to explain. They don't seem particularly affected by what she has to say, but another student overhears and steps in. 

The professors agree, in order to keep the president off their back, even if they do deliberately call Sylvia's deadname before ostentatiously correcting themselves. 

It still kind of sucks, but it's better than before. 

She still keeps an eye out for the whiteboard. Every )morning when she leaves for class, there's a new phrase and doodle written on it. 

Today it's 'It's not overreacting to ask for what you want and need' surrounded by tiny stars. 

She takes a picture of the board and sets it as her phone's lock screen as a reminder. 

* * *

Today, there are no words on the board. 

She's on her way back from class, and she knows that there had been something there this morning, because she'd seen it. 

Now there's nothing but the remnants of words sloppily wiped away by fingers, and next to the mess, an orange ':('. 

Sylvia is pretty sure that someone had gone through the hallway and had gone out of their way to wipe away today's message.

She finds herself immensely pissed off about this possibility. 

_'This place really is full of assholes.'_

She briefly considers knocking on the door, but quickly dismisses the option. She's never met or even seen the owner of the board, and she doubts that they'd want to be bothered by some stranger. 

(Plus, a small part of her is afraid that they'll treat her as shitty as everyone else does, and she'll lose this brief thing that helps her get through her days.)

Instead, she pulls a magenta marker out of her backpack and steps forward. 

She cleans off the remainder of the mess and writes, 'Let's hope this week gets better' in its place. Beneath it, she draws a horse next to the frowny face. 

It looks a bit stupid, its neck is way too long, but Sylvia's not in art school and it looks good enough, so she leaves it, nodding in satisfaction as she goes on her way. 

She hopes it helped.

* * *

"Fighting is not tolerated my  _fucking ass._ " Sylvia growls to herself as she stalks into the elevator, slamming the button to her floor with more force than is necessary. 

She uses her arm to wipe away the blood that's begun collecting on her upper lip, smearing it across her skin and accidentally irritating the cut on her cheek. 

"It reflects badly on the school," she mocks, but apparently the fact that three guys from her class had cornered her in the hallway didn't reflect as badly as her defending herself had. 

She can't believe this place. It's bullshit, and so are the people here. She can't even remember the last time she's been this pissed. Her whole body aches; they had managed to get a couple of good hits in before she had gotten it together and beat the shit out of them. 

 _'At least,'_ she thinks a bit grimly,  _'They'll think twice before trying to pull that shit again.'_

She's had a lot more practice than they've had.

When the elevator doors open, she stalks out and finds herself stopping in front of the whiteboard. 

She's almost too pissed to read it; she'd only stopped out of habit. 

'You deserve gentleness and good love,' the orange writing reads, 'I hope you find it soon.'

"Yeah," Sylvia agrees out loud, sniffing back blood, "You and me both, pal." 

She uses her shirt to mop up some of her face before it starts to splatter on the floor, and moves on. 

* * *

Today Sylvia doesn't even make it to the elevator before she has to stop. 

There are three people standing in the building's lobby. Not entirely out of the ordinary, but what catches Sylvia's eye is the setup. 

Three guys, and Sylvia is leery at first, but the tall thick one and his significantly shorter seeming-companion aren't starting shit with her, they're trying to start it with the small red-headed kid with the bright green hat. 

Trying is the operative word there. Carrot top over there seems completely oblivious to the fact that the other two have nothing but bad intentions.

 Sylvia would be impressed if it wasn't for the fact that the taller white guy looks like he's gearing up to throw a punch.

 _'Don't get involved,'_ Sylvia thinks to herself, as she makes to step around the mess and get out before she somehow manages to get in trouble for it all. She's in enough hot water as it is. 

"Look, you little retard..." tall guy says, and Sylvia sees hurt flash all over the little guy's face, and she sighs to herself. 

"Hey," she calls out, stepping toward the group, "Why don't you two back off, huh?" 

She draws herself to her full height as the other two start to protest, and she doesn't miss the look that passes over their faces as they catch sight of her muscles, and she feels proud despite herself. 

"You're not the boss of me," the man says childishly, but that doesn't stop him and his friend from slinking off with their metaphorical tails between their legs. 

She really hopes that this won't come back to bite her in the ass somehow. 

"Hey," she says, "Where are you wandering off to?"

Little redhead stops, turning away from the door he'd been making to go through. "What?" he asks, bouncing lightly on his toes, "I'm going with my friends!" He gestures to the backs of the two that Sylvia has  _just_ chased off. 

"Uh, I'm not too sure if those guys are your friends, pal." If they  _are_ , they're not very good ones. "Friends shouldn't call each other names."

He looks a bit sad, "That's just Hater," he says, but he doesn't sound convinced. 

What the fuck kind of name is Hater?

She resists the urge to roll her eyes and refocuses her attention onto short stuff. 

"What's your name?" she asks, and he looks back at her. One of his hands fiddles with the brim of his hat before pushing out towards her.

"My name is Wander, ma'am," he says as she takes his hand and shakes it. He beams up at her while her mind catches on the name 'Wander' ( _seriously?)_ before stalling on the fact that he'd called her 'ma'am'. 

"Wander, huh?" she says, because she's trying to be nice and making fun of people for unusual names is not nice (and she's gotten enough shit about her own name to know this firsthand), "I'm Sylvia." 

She almost braces herself for the usual song-and-dance she tends to get upon introducing herself, but remembers that Wander had called her 'ma'am' only moments before. 

"Nice to meet ya, Sylvia!" he chirps, his upset from earlier seemingly forgotten, which is good. He's bouncing on his toes, looking up at her expectantly, and she scrambles for something else to say. 

"So, what's your major?" she asks, because that's about the only question people at this school ask when they're meeting new people (so what if she's not the most creative conversation starter, she'll do what works). 

He seems excited about the question despite the fact that she's sure he's answered it dozens of times before. 

"Oh, I'm not too sure yet!" he says, "There's so many options to choose from, I'm not sure if I could ever settle on just one!" There's a brief pause before he asks, "What about you?"

"Kinesiology." His face lights up all over again. Sylvia's not sure if she's ever met someone this excitable before. He pushes himself up on his toes again, forcing his face as close to hers as he can get it (which, isn't all that close). 

"That's so cool!" he yells. He's got an iron grip on her arm, which she would usually find irritating (if not somewhat threatening), but she doesn't quite mind it from him. Still, she uses her free hand to nudge him back a couple of steps, and he goes without protesting, enthusiasm unwavering. 

"Glad someone else thinks so," she says, laughing a little, and then catches sight of a clock and realizes that she has to go upstairs and eat so that she can leave and not be late for her next class. "Do you live in this building?" she asks, and he nods. 

So they head up together, and she's not surprised per se to see that they live on the same floor, not nearly as surprised as she is when he walks straight for the whiteboard apartment, takes out a key, and opens the door. 

"Wait," she says before he can step inside, "This is your board?" 

He looks almost confused, taking a step back and following her finger to where she's pointing before the realization hits him. "Oh! Yes! You like it?" 

"Like it?" she asks incredulously, "It's really been helping me out lately."

He honest to god  _squeals_ and Sylvia doesn't even know what to do with that, so she just kind of stands there while he hops about, flapping his hands around. 

"That makes me so happy to hear!" he crows, "I'm so glad that it was able to help you!" 

To Sylvia, this seems like kind of an odd thing to get so excited about, but it's not like it's her place to judge, so she just nods a bit, offering up a small smile. 

"Yeah," she says, "I appreciate it."

"I appreciate  _you_!" is the automatic response, which is a bit nonsensical, but a lot about this kid has been nonsensical and she likes the spunk so she shrugs it off easily. "Anyway, I have to go. I'll see you about Sylvia!" Wander chirps, and the next thing she knows, she's looking at the back of the closed door. 

She gives it a bemused look, and then goes on towards her room. 

It feels like the start of something good. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the use of whiteboards in my own apartment building! 
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](http://www.princex-n.tumblr.com)


End file.
